


this wasn't supposed to happen but here we are

by Bagell



Series: ttbhf [2]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Banter, Cursing/Profanity, F/F, Fluff, Food, Kids, Meddling Wives, Mutual Pining, Polyamory, Slow Burn, Trigger/Content Warnings:, background claia, background clizzy, background frayhallow, background izzyheline, background mecky, i mean? i guess?, if you couldn't tell, there are kids and they're really cute ok and i love them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 06:01:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20253322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bagell/pseuds/Bagell
Summary: Even with all the success of getting Maia and Becky together, Izzy didn't expect to fall for the bubbly brunette.Though Becky had a crush on Izzy before she and Maia met, she really didn't expect those feelings to come back after so long.Or, Becky and Izzy are reluctantly attracted to each other, and their partners help them with that (by kicking Izzy out of her own home).





	this wasn't supposed to happen but here we are

**Author's Note:**

> team red, for the prompt (mutual) pining
> 
> -
> 
> hi!!!! i will start by saying if you haven't read the first fic in this series, you probably shouldn't read this one yet bc many things might be hard to understand!! i will try to cover them below but also i'd really really appreciate if you read 'the truth behind her flowers' :D
> 
> okay, so this is going to be quite a long note. skip below to [CONTEXT] or [TRIGGER/CONTENT WARNINGS] if you want
> 
> so this is my final fic for the sh wlw fic bingo. it's been a frankly incredible ride, i've gotten closer to people, made friends, and added and watched as more and more wlw fics were added to this fandom. it's freaking incredible, and i gotta thank the sh wlw fic library so so so much for planning this. also, i've been kind of stuck in a rut with writing, and i can completely honestly say this pulled me right out of it. i've broken personal records for writing while participating in this bingo, and have written things that i'm genuinely so so proud of, and it's all thanks to this event and the huge support generated in other wlw writers in this fandom from this event. so i'm kind of (quite, really, as expected) really emotional about this, and i'm going to miss this and participating so much. if the library decides to host another of these, if i'm too busy to be a writer i will most definitely be a reader and a supporter, because y'all have been so supportive of each other through this whole thing and have created (and will continue to i'm sure) such AMAZING content. thank you so much again to the sh wlw fic library :''')
> 
> [CONTEXT] for this fic  
\- andre is clary and maia's kid  
\- alex, jackie, and lan (aka the triplets) are izzy, helen, and aline's kids   
\- izzy is married to helen and aline (this happens between ttbhf and this fic)  
\- clary and maia are married  
\- maia and becky are dating (see how that happens in ttbhf!)  
\- clary and aline are dating (this happens between ttbhf and this fic)
> 
> [TRIGGER/CONTENT WARNINGS]  
\- alcohol  
\- food  
\- cursing/profanity

It starts with doing each other favors in their busy, busy lives.

“Becky, I got a last minute job at the shop and Helen and Aline are both already at work, could you take the kids to school?” The whole request is blurted through the phone in one breath without a second for pause, and Becky responds without thinking.   


“Yeah, of course Izzy. What time do they need to be there?”

“8:30, they should be ready to go when you come to pick them up. Thank you so so much for this Becky, I owe you.”

To say Becky’s surprised by Isabelle’s words is almost an understatement. Ever since Izzy got Maia and Becky to start dating and ended the hostility between the two florists, Becky and Maia have made a game out of teasing her and flirting with each other tenfold whenever she’s around, a game that Izzy responds to with eye rolls and gags, lamenting about the horrid decision she made putting so much effort into them. 

So gratitude and frenzied early morning phone calls are… new. The line shuts off with a click and Becky continues getting ready for her day, checking the clock every now and then so she doesn’t miss the time she has to pick up the triplets.

Except… shit, today’s Wednesday, isn’t it? If Becky remembers correctly from the times she’s tagged along with Maia to drop off Andre, Wednesdays start earlier, at 8:15. And right now it’s… 7:56. Becky needs to go, right now.

She’s out the door in a second, haphazardly tying her hair up with a scrunchie and starting her car. She didn’t bring a jacket, but it’s fine. Better cold and on time than warm and knowing she caused Alex, Lan, and Jackie to be tardy.

When she knocks on the door of the Lightwood-Blackthorn-Penhallow house, she expects the kids to have to usher the kids into getting ready, what with their mom getting the wrong time in her rush.

Instead, Lan and Jackie are lined up on the little bench that holds their shoes, backpacks and shoes on and lunchboxes in hand, kicking their feet as Alex, the oldest by two minutes, opens the door. They greet her in a chorus of “Hi, Becky” (Jackie), “G’morning” (Lan), and “Hey” (Alex) that Becky smiles at, waving.    


“You’re early,” Jackie says, pouting a little. “We thought you’d be late.”

“Well,” Becky says, ushering the kids to the car. “Should I be offended by that?”

“Nope,” Lan says, popping the ‘p’. “We heard Mom give you the wrong directions on the phone.”

Becky chuckles, closing the car door. “That, she did. Do you know why she was in such a rush this morning? Seatbelt on, Jackie.”

Jackie makes a raspberry noise with his lips in retaliation and clicks his seatbelt. 

Alex pipes up. “Some old guy from the city is selling stuff.”

Becky raises an eyebrow, stopping at a red light. “And she needed to attend to that at 8 AM?”

Alex shrugs. “Sometimes she gets really loud and excited about jewelry.” He says the word like “jool-err-ree”, over-emphasizing the first syllable. “Hm,” he says, considering. “Or angry.”

“I don’t get it,” Lan says, picking at his skirt. “It’s all just shiny so who cares? Why is this guy’s stuff better?”

The triplets quiet for a second, all seeming to think about Lan’s point. Finally, Jackie says slowly, “Maybe… Maybe this old guy’s stuff is shiny  _ and _ glittery.”

They all seem to nod and agree to this conclusion, Lan praising Jackie on his analysis (which he pronounces “uh-NAY-luh-siss”). But then Alex frowns, finding a flaw in the logic. “But I don’t like glitter,” he says.

Becky gasps at that, but the three ignore her as Lan says, matter-of-factly, “But other people  _ love _ glitter.”

Alex’s frown deepens. “Why would Mom want something  _ I _ don’t like?”

Jackie pats Alex’s shoulder consolingly. “It’s business,” he says, drawing out the first syllable with a forlorn expression, and Becky has to stifle a laugh at the turn of the conversation.    


“Alright,” she says, pulling up to the school. “I can’t find parking, so can you three make your way in yourselves?” She’s stopped at the front entrance, so there’s not much for them to walk, but the determined look that crosses Alex’s face at the responsibility makes it  _ so _ worth it to ask.

“Yes,” Alex says, and Jackie and Lan nod in agreement. Becky unlocks the car door and they all undo their seatbelts, Jackie helping Lan with his when it gets stuck. The triplets each grab their lunchboxes and backpacks, climbing out of the car.    


“Bye, Becky!” they call after they’re all on the pavement.   


“Bye!”

They slam the door shut with all the force of three seven-year-olds. Right on cue, a car honks their horn at Becky from behind and she rolls her eyes, pulling out of the drop-off zone. 

Still, despite the early morning rush, Becky gladly takes the job again, many, many times, if only to witness the triplets and their matter-of-fact conversations again.

-

“Izzy, do you have time?” Becky says into the phone in the little five-minute window she has. “A bunch of new orders just came in and I don’t have time to pick up the order of flowers I usually get from the city. Please? I’ll owe you.”

“Slow down, Becky,” Izzy says. “Yes, of course. Just send me the address. How long a drive is it?”

“About an hour for there and back,” Becky says, wincing. “And then there’s also the whole process of pick up. Look, I get that it’s a lot, if you’re busy, I can--”

“Nonsense,” Izzy says. “It’s my day off. I’ll be at Roses in an hour and a half?”

Becky opens her mouth to say more, protest that she doesn’t want to take out of Izzy’s well-deserved break, but just inhales instead, feeling stress leave her at the surety in Isabelle’s voice. “Yes,” Becky says, exhaling with a hefty sigh. “That would be amazing, thank you so much.”

“Don’t mention it,” Izzy says, and despite all her exhaustion and stress, Becky can feel the wink in Izzy’s voice and she laughs, albeit tiredly.   


“ _ Thank _ you,” she says, with emphasis, and ends the call before Izzy can protest.

Later, while Becky’s neck deep in organizing orders and putting them in order on her calendar, flowers bursting all around her, the door pops in to reveal Izzy, face and hair decorated with a few stray petals and leaves. “Your flowers are here,” she says with a bright, beaming smile. “Come help me bring them in?”

“You’re a lifesaver,” Becky says simply, and all the stress and pressure leaves her shoulders as Izzy’s smile only grows.

-

“Becky, could you take care of the kids today? Helen suddenly wants to renovate the attic and I accidentally encouraged her.”

“Y-you what?” Becky says, bewildered. “I mean, yes, I can, but did Aline just watched this all go down?”

“Have you ever met Aline?”   


“Point taken, when do you want me to pick them up?”   


“3 PM okay?”   


Becky checks her schedule. It’s a little ridiculous seeing as she has Taki Blossoms’ schedule completely memorized, but her own will always be hard to remember. Pettiness makes people powerful. “Yeah, it’s fine,” she says into the phone. “Hey, Izzy, I know an interior designer, I could call her and send her your way?”   


“No, no,” Izzy says. “Helen insists on doing it herself. Also Aline just heard you through the phone is shaking her head vehemently because if Helen thinks I’m getting an outsider’s help she’ll literally kill me. Also she says ‘Hi Becky.’”

“Got it,” Becky says, nodding. “Hi Aline. Izzy, I’ll see you at 3?”

“See you at 3,” Izzy confirms.   


“Izzy?” Becky says. “Please be careful.”

“I will try not to die by my wife’s hand as she throws things around in the attic.”

“I am immediately reassured,” Becky says, and hangs up.

-

Becky groans.  _ Fuck, _ why isn’t Clary picking up?

It’s the first time in their ten months of dating that Becky has had to deal with sick Maia and she kind of desperately needs help. But Clary isn’t picking up, of course she isn’t, she’s taking Andre to the doctor’s, when would she pick up the phone?

Maia lets out a pained moan and Becky makes a matching sound of despair, adjusting the cold towel on her forehead.

“Hot,” Maia whine-grunts, kicking her arms and legs in a frenzy to get the thick blanket off herself. Becky tries to help it off her, getting a rough knee to the nose in the process. She bites down a pained yell, not wanting to make any loud noises in the middle of Maia’s fever.

“Becky?” Maia says, voice hoarse. Becky turns to her, adjusts the towel again. 

“Yes, baby? Do you need anything?”   


“I’m cold,” Maia answers, and the tears in her eyes would be comical if they hadn’t been through this twenty times in the past hour, and if Becky’s nose wasn’t still throbbing.

Becky sighs, picking up the comforter again and setting it across Maia’s waist, leaving one leg and her shoulders out.

Maia whines. “Neck cold,” she says.

Becky puts a hopefully comforting hand to her neck and Maia quiets for a second. The victorious moment is short-lived because suddenly Maia’s glaring through teary eyes and a red face. “Hand  _ gross, _ ” she says, and Becky is so offended that she almost gets right up and walks out the door. 

Sighing, she retracts her hand and picks up the phone again.  _ What if…? No, that would be too cruel. No one should get subjected to this. Well… _

Becky thinks back to the months of Izzy groaning each time Becky kissed Maia in front of her or each time she complained about not getting credit for their relationship.

_ Well. _

Becky dials Izzy.

“Hey, Isabelle,” she says with sugar in her voice, stepping out of the room and shutting the door so Maia won’t be affected by the noise, ignoring Maia’s pained, coughing yowl at being left. Well, she can’t fully ignore it. She winces, turning around. “Maia, dear, the water is right next to you, okay? On the nightstand.”  _ Then _ she shuts the door.

“What was that?” Izzy says, suspicious already, and Becky inwardly curses her luck.

“Oh, nothing,” Becky says, sugary sweet and amping up the pleasantness in her voice. “I was wondering if you wanted to come over.”   


There’s a pause. Then, “Why?”

Becky scoffs, trying to not be offended. “Can’t a girl just want to hang out with her friend?”   


Izzy responds, suspiciously, “Are we friends?”

“I-” Becky starts. “Are you serious?” She huffs before Izzy can respond. “Fine. Can’t a girl just want to hang out with her girlfriend’s wife’s girlfriend?” she says, sweetness back in her voice.

Maia coughs loudly in the other room, almost pointedly, and Becky winces again. “Please just hurry up and come over, let’s just say I miss you, okay,  _ please, _ ” she says desperately, then cuts off the call on Izzy’s bewildered questioning.

Miraculously, Izzy’s at the door ten minutes later, having heeded Becky’s texted warning not to ring the doorbell. Becky nearly sobs with relief when she sees her.    


“What’s going on?” Izzy says. “I brought soup, like you said.” She holds up a bag, presumably with the soup in a container inside.   


A thought comes to Becky, suddenly, dangerously. “Did you cook it?” she asks, eyes wide.

Izzy glares. “No, I didn’t. It’s leftovers from last night. Helen cooked.”   


“Perfect,” Becky chirps, and grabs the bag, welcoming Izzy inside and shutting the front door. She quickly leads Izzy down the corridor and to the bedroom. Right before they reach the door, there’s a roar of a cough inside, then a wail about the heat, and Becky turns to Izzy with a desperate grin. Izzy’s eyes are suddenly wide, understanding dawning.

Becky grabs her arm before she can dash for the front door, shoving the bedroom door open and hauling Izzy and herself inside and slamming the door shut.   


“ _ Rebecca, _ ” Izzy growls, voice dangerous and low. “Do you know what it’s like dealing with a sick Maia?” She doesn’t let Becky cut in. “I know what it’s like. And I am  _ not  _ dealing with this today, or ever again.”

But Becky is between the door and her, pressed up against it, and though Isabelle could easily overpower her, neither want to cause a fuss and awaken Maia’s feverish wrath.

It’s incredibly likely Becky won’t survive the night, but at least she shares the pain with her girlfriend and girlfriend’s wife’s girlfriend, right?

-

“Hey, Becky,” Izzy says tiredly. “I’m working late and I kind of don’t want to bother Helen and Aline or Clary and Maia ‘cause they’re all out at dinner. Could you bring me some coffee?”

“Are we friends?”

“Fuck you,” Izzy says to the brunette, exhausted, and hangs up.   


Becky, smiling soft and pretty in the night and holding a tray with two coffees, comes anyway.

Izzy almost throws one in her face when she sees hers is labelled with ‘Friend’.

-

When Izzy retrieves Becky’s flowers from the city again, Becky’s suddenly reminded of the crush she had on her, back when she thought Izzy was just another customer and before she met Maia.

It’s a weird thing to remember when Izzy’s right next to her, bouquets in her arms that are bigger than her entire torso, brimming at the bottom of her face. Izzy’s smile is bright as she teases Becky about something, but Becky’s fully blanked out, watching her dark hair fall in elegant strands around her face and dip into a stalk of rose leaves. 

Huh.

-

“You’re sure they can stick around while you’re at work?” Izzy asks, though Alex, Lan, and Jackie have already ran to the back counter, climbing over it.

“ _ Yes, _ ” Becky says, again. “It’s fine, Izzy. Plus, the customers love them and people are always more inclined to buy flowers when I have three little kids giving them puppy dog eyes behind me.” She laughs, and Izzy smiles.

“Well, if it helps sales,” she says. She turns to look at Helen and Aline for a second before directing her attention to Becky again. “Thank you, again. We’ll pick them up from yours tomorrow?”

“Absolutely,” Becky says. “Enjoy your romantic getaway.”   


Izzy rolls her eyes and Helen laughs. “We will,” Aline says. “Thank you, Becky.”   


“Stop, it’s no problem,” Becky says. “Get out now, go be mushy or whatever.”   


The three laugh and walk out the shop, Helen and Aline glancing knowingly to each other behind Izzy’s back.

Becky and Izzy don’t notice though, just waving to each other as they separate, before Becky turns to the kids and Izzy watches through the window, smiling fondly.

-

It’s three days into Maia, Clary, and Andre’s vacation and Izzy’s sick of it.

Not because she misses her girlfriend, though that’s also a contributing factor. She has her wives to cuddle with while Clary’s gone, and honestly she’s quite liking the extra time she’s spending with Aline, Helen, Alex, Lan, and Jackie.

It’s  _ Becky _ that’s killing her.

“Can I please,  _ please _ kick her out,” Izzy hisses to Aline and Helen after Becky whines for the fifth time about how ‘booooooorreedd’ she is.

“Darling,” Helen says. “Be polite.”

“She’s in  _ our _ house!”

“Exactly,” Aline says, and Izzy swears she’s stifling a cackle. “She’s a  _ guest. _ ”

Izzy gapes. “Are you two  _ enjoying _ this?”   


“I don’t know what you’re talking about, babe,” Aline says, kicking one leg over the other and inspecting her nails. Izzy glares at her.

Fine. It looks like Izzy’s the one who has to do everything around here.

“Becky,” Izzy says, demanding the brunette’s attention. Becky looks up from where she’s sprawled on the couch in Izzy, Helen, and Aline’s home. “Becky,” Izzy says again, sweetly, because she feels like she’s about to pop a blood vessel. “I think it’s…  _ sweet _ how much you miss Maia, and I relate. I’m sure Aline does too. I miss Clary so much.  _ But  _ as things are, I also have two wives. And my kids are at summer camp.  _ So,  _ what I’m trying to get at is that though I empathize with you, I also really need you to--”

“Join her,” Aline cuts in, and Izzy whips her head around to see Helen nodding vigorously. 

“Yes,” Helen says. “What Izzy’s trying to say is that she feels so  _ empty _ without Clary around, and she can tell you feel the exact same way about Maia.”   


“So you two should go out together! Get some ice cream, enjoy the sunshine as two singles for once.”

Izzy glares. “Are you, my wife, calling me single right now? Is that what’s happening? Plus, you’re dating Clary too why am  _ I _ the one that gets called--”   


“Love you too, babe!” Aline says, and Helen leans in for a quick kiss before they both shove Becky and Izzy out of the house.

Izzy stands on the pavement outside, blinking. She doesn’t even have  _ shoes _ on, and neither does Becky.

A second later, the door opens, and two pairs of shoes are tossed out next to them. One of them overshoots and a shoe ends up underneath a car.

“Becky,” Izzy asks, just to confirm. “Did my wives just kick me out of our own house?”   


“I guess,” Becky says flippantly, and Izzy doesn’t even have time to hiss ‘no one asked you’ before Becky’s continuing, on her knees to reach for the shoe under the car. “But I guess that means you have time, right? Where do you want to go?”

Izzy stares at Becky, with her brown hair in two pigtails for the heat, and her green eyes bright in the sun.

Her wives kicked her out for this. For someone who gets down on her knees in the bright open public to reach under a car for a shoe. For someone who does not give a single shit that Izzy just got kicked out of her own home. Who is now walking happily down the street towards one of the city’s numerous ice cream shops. For someone who, unfathomably stupid and unlikable as she is (Izzy has not forgotten the fever incident), also has the brightest smile and most frustratingly convincing sweettalk.

They kicked her out of a full day cuddle with her wives and kids for  _ this. _

Un-fucking-believable.

Izzy tugs on her shoes and follows Becky to the ice cream shop.

-

“This one,” Izzy says, choking on laughter, until she sees that Becky is suddenly blushing bright red and looking away. “No. Oh my god.” She looks down at the dramatic cover of the 500 page heterosexual vampire love story. “You’ve  _ read _ this?” Izzy tries not to shriek in the quiet bookstore, but it’s a near thing.   


“Shut  _ up, _ ” Becky says, laughing self-consciously and looking around. “It’s YA, okay? What, was I  _ not _ supposed to read every single vampire romance book ever as a teen?”

“Oh my god,” Izzy says again. “You’ve totally read  _ Twilight. _ ”

Becky stares at her. “You haven’t?”   


“No, no, I have,” Izzy says, grinning. “But  _ you. _ I am willing to bet actual money that you used to have a  _ Twilight _ fan blog.”   


“You know,” Becky says, turning around. “We should check out the manga section.  _ Man, _ I haven’t read manga in  _ so  _ long.”   


“Hey!” Izzy yells. “Get back here, you--”

-

Izzy swears she started hanging out with Becky more just to spite her wives.  _ Kick her out? Sure, see if she ever comes back. _

She  _ swears _ it only started out like that.    


But now, she and Becky are going out together at least bi-weekly, between work, Izzy taking care of the triplets, and dates with their significant others. And, and Izzy  _ likes _ it. Really likes it actually, and she wonders when the hell Becky became a friend. Or maybe even--

No, that wouldn’t be. Of course, it’s no secret to Izzy that Becky used to have a crush on her, but that all went away when Becky started dating Maia, right?

_ Right? _

Fuck, whatever it is Becky feels, Izzy’s gotten a little too used to her heart starting to thump a tad harder whenever Becky’s around, to her eyes immediately darting to the little point of contact every time they touch, whether it be accidental, a small brush as they grab a snack together, or purposeful, a warm greeting hug (because they greet each other with  _ hugs _ ) or a brush of fingers against her cheek to wipe away a dollop of whipped cream. God this isn’t, this wasn’t,  _ planned _ it wasn’t  _ supposed _ to happen, it--

“Isabelle?”

Izzy’s head jerks up to see Becky looking at her quizzically. 

Then, Becky’s smiling, sucking on a metal straw at her boba. “What’re you thinking so hard about?” she pauses, thinking before deciding on something. “Also, you have cinnamon bun crumbs on your cheek.”

Izzy wipes them off, about to thank Becky before realizing something and glaring. “Why’d you have to think before telling me that? Were you not gonna tell me?”   


Becky starts whistling and looks off to the side like a cartoon character, so Izzy picks up the rest of their cinnamon bun and shoves the dense sugary goodness directly into Becky’s face.

“Hey!” Becky yells, and swats her away. “Fine, gosh, if you have to be like that I  _ won’t _ tell you about the other crumbs that somehow got on your forehead.”

Instead of reaching up to clean them off, Isabelle mashes the cinnamon bun on Becky’s cheek, veering towards her neck.

Becky gasps. “Isabelle, not the hair!”

And indeed, the cinnamon sugar did come a little too close to Becky’s brown locks, and it would be a shame if it did because Becky does have really, really pretty hair. And there it is again, that kind of thought. Isabelle glares.

She shoves the cinnamon bun into Becky’s hair.

-

“You,” Izzy says, frenetic and hyped up on at least four cups of coffee. “Are a  _ cheater. _ ”

“I won fair and square!” Becky says, after taking another slurp of the coffee in front of her.

Izzy glares and leans forward into Becky’s space. “No one,” she spits. “Wins at Monopoly ‘fair and square’.”

“Oh, what,” Becky says, gesticulating wildly. “Are you saying you tried to cheat to win and it didn’t work? Boohoo, poor Isabelle, cheating the game and still couldn’t win properly.”

There’s a flash of a mass of angry, wild black hair, and Becky is suddenly on the ground, Isabelle’s weight thrown on top of her in retaliation, pinning her down by her wrists.    


“Show me the money!” Izzy demands.

“It’s all  _ out _ there!” Becky yells in her face. “Not all of us  _ cheat! _ ”

“I  _ know _ you cheated, you liar!” 

“I  _ didn’t! _ ”

Izzy doesn’t listen, sticking her hands in Becky’s pockets. Suddenly, she throws open Becky’s giant denim jacket and  _ pounces,  _ hands finding exactly what they’re looking for and pulling out gargantuan wads of cold, hard Monopoly cash. “Aha!” she yells, practically screaming at this point. Becky yells in protest, trying to grab the cash back despite the game being over. “I knew it, you fiend! You lying, manipulative, awful--”

Aline walks out of the bedroom, stepping over the carnage to get to the kitchen and getting out the coffee maker. 

“Oh, babe,” Izzy says, looking up from where she’s straddling Becky and threatening the brunette. “I have some leftover in this cup. It might be a bit cold, but there’s also more on the counter next to the fridge, which should be hot. And there’s coffee ice in the freezer.”

Aline gives a sleepy thumbs up, not managing to do anymore at 6 in the morning. She picks up Izzy’s cup and takes a long, undignified slurp, before heading back into the bedroom and closing the door, ignoring the carnage in the hallway.

And just like that, the two on the floor are right back ripping Monopoly money out of the strangest places in each others’ clothes and hair, screaming and wrestling.

-

It’s no secret that Isabelle is beautiful, and it’s certainly no secret that Becky thinks Izzy is beautiful.

It’s not like she’s forgotten. Certainly, she’s put less attention on the fact since she started dating Maia, but that doesn’t mean at all that Becky’s forgotten this very certain fact. 

But more and more in the past few months (past  _ year _ oh gosh she’s been dating Maia more than a  _ year _ now, far more), she’s noticed other things about Isabelle.

Like that half the time she scrunches her nose and eyebrows together while she thinks, and half the time her face is smooth and straight all over (there are occasionally rare variants like eyebrow scrunch but no nose, eye narrow and nose scrunch, or lip tilt and eyebrow scrunch). Or that when she’s infuriated, she’ll smile before glaring, incredulous and exasperated, and call Becky ‘Rebecca’. Or that (and this is one Becky noticed long, long ago) when she smiles, her eyes go all wide and sparkly like a cartoon.

A very, very beautiful cartoon.

Becky is thinking about this while they’re on opposite ends of Becky’s couch, tub of ice cream open between them and giant spoons in hand as they get immersed in their own separate books.

But Becky’s mind is somewhere else entirely, in the curve of concentration in Isabelle’s brow, in the tiny quirks of her red-stained lips.

And then Izzy’s looking up, mouth forming into a smile as she pokes Becky with a foot. “What?” she says, eyes bright and starting to sparkle and Becky swears it can’t be a real sight but it  _ is. _ Somehow, Isabelle Sophia Lightwood-Blackthorn-Penhallow is real.

“Nothing,” Becky says, looking back down at her book.

Izzy smacks her. “C’mon, you can’t just say that,” she says, bordering on a whine.

“I say what I want,” Becky says playfully.

“Do you now?” Izzy says, eyebrow raised. “Well then, I take what I want.” And to prove it, she takes the whole ice cream tub and plonks it onto her stomach, slouching further into the couch.

“Oh you’re funny,” Becky says, and Izzy sticks out her tongue. “I’ll have you know, so do I.” Becky reaches forward and takes an obscene scoop of ice cream.    


“Hey!” Izzy says. “You can’t do that.”   


“‘I take what I want,’” Becky says, mimicking Izzy’s words.

“No,” Izzy says. “If someone else is holding the tub, then you can’t just take ice cream willy nilly.”   
“Oh yeah?” Becky says, and Izzy nods.

“That’s the way it is.”

“Well, what if I ask nicely?”

Izzy seems to consider this. Finally, she flips her unfairly gorgeous hair and looks at Becky judgingly. “You’d have to ask  _ really _ nicely. And then your request would be considered.”   


“Wow,” Becky says. “Sounds like a very prestigious process.”

“It is.”   


“When would I get my answer back by?”

“I don’t know,” Izzy says, sighing. “It’s all very complicated. Probably like, a week at the quickest. Our panel is very busy.”

“Huh,” Becky says slowly. “So,” she says, trailing off. She looks at the spoon in her hand, still holding the ginormous scoop of ice cream. “About enough time to finish this, right?”

“Perhaps,” Izzy starts, and then realizes. “Hey!” she says, but it’s too late, the entire scoop is in Becky’s mouth.

Izzy rolls her eyes. “You’re gonna choke, you dumbass.”

Becky, because she’s  _ mature, _ especially when the person she’s arguing with might be her new (new?) crush, just mimics her through the mouthful in response.

-

The table in the heart of their small city is set for ten, candles glowing between glasses of wine and apple juice. The apple juice is also served in wine glasses, because Clary insisted that she wanted to match with Maia.

The kids are on one end of the table, insisting to all sit with each other, which the adults are fine with as they chat and laugh, holding hands over the table as they eat.

“Babe,” Helen says quietly, and Aline turns to her so Helen can wipe off the bit of rice stuck to her mouth. At the same time, Maia laughs as Clary gets sauce on her chin and helps her with that.

Watching the whole spectacle, Becky turns to Isabelle sitting across from her and looks at her mock-expectantly. Izzy looks up from her pasta, bemused.    


“What?” Izzy says. “Do I have something on my face?”

“No,” Becky says. “Do I?”

“No…?” 

Becky sighs and turns to Aline, Helen, and Clary. “Does she ruin the mood this effectively at every date?”

Izzy rolls her eyes. “I am an  _ amazing _ romantic,” she insists. “It just happens that I’m not with you, because I’m not  _ dating _ you.”

“Mhm,” Becky hums, taking a mouthful of her own food. “I’m sure.”   


Izzy makes an indignant noise, glaring at Becky before settling down in her seat. “Well, it’s the truth, whether you want to believe it is up to you. Right?” she turns to her wives and girlfriend.

“Um,” Helen says. “Sure.”

The whole table bursts into laughs then, except for the kids who are studiously ignoring their parents and Izzy who seems to pop a vessel at her wife’s lack of faith.

“Okay then,” Izzy says. “What about  _ you, _ Rebecca? Maia, how’s Becky with the romantics?”

“Well,” Maia says, and she heaves a great sigh, picking at her food. When she doesn’t continue beyond a wince, Becky gasps.   


“Hey!” she says. “We literally got each other flowers like, every two days before we got together!”

“Uh huh,” Maia says, and shoves a spoonful of rice into her mouth. 

Izzy grins victoriously, eyes bright as the other laugh at the two of them. “See?” she says, and Becky shakes her head.

“Oh, yeah, totally, because one faulty source is equivalent to three identical firsthand opinions.”

“One,” Izzy corrects.

“Clary and Aline didn’t disagree.”

“So,” Maia cuts in. “Are y’all gonna eat your food or…?”

The table erupts into noise again as Becky and Izzy immediately turn on Maia.

-

“Easy, easy,” Becky slides her hand slowly until the block is free, not a single other block out of place. She drops the wooden block onto the discard pile, holding her hands up. “Look, you guys are good, but you just can’t beat me.”

Jackie expertly eases a block out of the middle of the tall Jenga stack. “Says  _ who? _ ” he says tauntingly.

“Says  _ me, _ ” Becky retorts.

“That doesn’t work,” Lan protests.

“Yeah?” Becky says. “Says who?”   


He sticks his tongue out. “Says me.”

The kids dissolve into ‘oooh’s and ‘burrrrn’s after that, waving their hands in extremely apt excitement. Shoot, clearly Becky needs to work on her game. That  _ was _ good.

Unfortunately, Alex waves his hand a little too excitedly and the other three kids (and Becky) scream as the tower comes crashing down, raining wooden blocks all around the living room.

It’s not a moment later that Jackie, Lan, and Andre are all screaming at Alex, so Becky takes them out for donuts to calm them down (and herself. She deserves a donut after that trying round of Jenga).

They’re sitting around in the donut shop when Lan says softly, “I miss Mom.”

The others hum in agreements (or sympathy in Andre’s case) and Becky sighs. “I miss her too,” she says, and it’s true. She’s almost surprised that it is, except she’s been spending so much time with Isabelle lately and now suddenly Izzy’s working late three nights in a row. An idea comes to her then, for herself as much as to ease the pouts off the kids’ faces. “Hey, do you want to see her? I could drive you to the jewelry store.”

Jackie’s eyebrows come together. “I thought she doesn’t like it when we go because all her customers are old stuffy people.”

Becky laughs. “Now, now, I’m not sure about that. All people like jewelry. Don’t you?”

Jackie nods. “Yeah, but I wouldn’t  _ buy _ it.”

“All the more reason to go,” Becky insists. “Come on, I’ll buy you all something glittery. Or just shiny for you, Alex.”

That seems to convince them, and Becky piles them into her car (which she recently switched out for a van, after starting to take care of the kids more and more often).

Minutes later, they’re in front of Lightwood Jewels, Lan and Alex running eagerly ahead. Jackie seems to pause for a second, still not wanting to bother his mom at work, but Becky smiles at him and gives him a little push, and he’s off too. 

“You wanna join them?” Becky asks Andre.

“Nah,” he says shortly. They still have a sort of weird relationship, biting dry sass at each other back and forth. Becky shrugs and just waves him over so they’re not blocking the door, watching the triplets.

Izzy’s mouth forms a perfect ‘O’ when she spots her kids and she barely has time to shoot Becky a withering glare before three tiny bodies are colliding into hers. And clearly, this is the best idea Becky’s ever had, because she gets to watch the anger and surprise seep out of Izzy’s face as she picks up her kids and cradles them into a more comfortable position on her torso in the twirly chair she sits on behind the counter. Izzy’s head turns to her, and Becky’s perfectly ready to receive another deathly glare, but this time Izzy’s eyes just soften further before she looks back down at her kids, and Becky thinks she maybe hears Izzy promising to bring them to work more often.

The customers in the store seemed ruffled for a second when the triplets first stormed in, but they relax now, taking in the sight of the jeweler covered in her kids and smiling widely and softly. Some even coo at the sight, and the one person who seems annoyed at the kids is glared down by Becky before Isabelle’s even able to notice, too taken in by her children sprawled on her chest.

Later, Izzy beckons Becky over and takes her hand, smiling up at her and mouthing a thank you. Then she just, holds it, holds Becky’s hand and keeps holding it, and though this feels  _ right _ inwardly Becky is panicking just a little. She kind of looks around, and there’s Andre, looking incredibly amused in his tiny eight-year-old self, crossing his arms and smirking at the sight of Becky’s floundering. She glares at him, huffing and looking back at the cuddle pile in the chair, squeezing Izzy’s hand in hers.

And if Izzy smiles more warmly at that, well, it’s just because she’s with her children, right?

-

Becky bounces on the balls of her feet, fidgeting her hands. “Okay, I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna go over,” she says to herself.

Maia groans from the bedroom, still groggy with sleep in her voice. “Just do it, you’ve been pining for her for  _ months. _ ”

“I have  _ not, _ ” Becky says, gasping. “I have not,” she says, quieter to herself.

Becky can hear Maia snort all the way down the hall. “Sure, babe.”

Becky pouts, then groans. “Pep talk me?”

“You look hot. Izzy’s also hot. You’re a match made in heaven.”

It’s Becky’s turn to snort. “You’re so romantic in the mornings, babe.”

“I know right,” Becky thinks she hears Maia mutter, probably mashing her face half in their pillows. “Also if she doesn’t agree I’ll like… punch her.”

“You can’t punch your wife’s girlfriend, babe.”   


“Sure I can,” Maia says. “For your honor.”

Becky nods sagely. “Thank you, babe.” She pauses. “Don’t you like Izzy though?”

“For your honor,” Maia repeats. “Now let me sleep.”

“Bye, babe.” She knows she calls Maia ‘babe’ too much, but she can’t help it, hasn’t been able to since she and Maia got together.

Okay. Focus. Izzy.

Oh gosh. 

Becky slaps herself on the cheeks a few times, then, before she can stop herself, throws open the front door.

On her doorstep is Isabelle.

Which is like, totally unfair, because Becky psyched herself up (with Maia’s help) to go to  _ Izzy’s _ house, which would have involved an extra few minutes driving or walking. And now suddenly she’s right in front of her like Becky’s birthday’s come early, but she’s not  _ ready _ for her birthday.

“Good morning,” she says, stupidly, and giggles sound out from behind Izzy. She looks, and there, down the steps, are Clary, Aline, and Helen, all making shovey motions toward Izzy.

Isabelle sighs, and Becky focuses her attention back to her, where she’s watching her girlfriend and wives with an exasperated expression. She turns to Becky, and… Oh, is that nervousness?   


Becky smiles them, unable to not, shakily, unsure still but feeling surer by the second.    


“So,” Izzy starts, ignoring Becky’s awkward greeting. She looks right into Becky’s eyes, hers tired and drooping and pretending to be so sick of her loves. But the same nervousness is sparking underneath all that, and an earnestness. “My wives kicked me out of the house again, and my girlfriend joined them in orchestrating my suffering.”

Becky nods. “You know, it’s funny,” she says, feeling her tongue starting to want to ramble. “My girlfriend seems eager to join.”   


“Damn right,” comes a voice from behind her, and suddenly Becky’s being shoved forward, gap between her and Izzy halved in a split second. 

Becky rolls her eyes. “Finally got up?”

“Hush,” Maia says, leaning in to plant a kiss on Becky’s cheek and getting one back.

Izzy watches the whole thing, not speaking until Maia clears her throat pointedly and she starts, glaring at Maia. She turns back to Becky. “Can you kick her out?”   


Becky looks at Maia. She hums. “Get out.”

“Wow,” Maia says, but there’s a tiny grin playing at the corner of her lips. “But sure, if you promise you two will get your shit together.”

Becky shoves her as Izzy pulls her arm so she’s stumbling off the steps, laughing and walking over to Clary, Helen, and Aline, who fill her in. 

“Now that they’re all there,” Izzy says, and walks with Becky through the front door, immediately shutting it behind them and turning the lock with a click.

Becky laughs as she hears their four partners yelling from outside the door, and Izzy chuckles a bit too, can’t help it. She trains her face though, mouth scrunching in an adorable pout as she gets herself to focus. Becky waits, because Izzy looks like she’s trying to get herself to do something, and she smiles, or tries to, as Izzy suddenly brings her hands up to clap on Becky’s cheeks, cupping them tightly.

They say, at the same time, Izzy trying her best and Becky suddenly unable to hold back, “I like you.”

Then, “I like you too.”

They laugh a little, because everything is a little hard to control with all their emotions bubbling so freely.

Izzy smiles, fully, slyly, and Becky delights in seeing the sparkles she likes so much come into Izzy’s eyes. “Wanna get ice cream with the kids and escape our significant others before they can get any details.”

Holy shit. Maia was right, dating Izzy is going to be  _ so _ fun. “ _ Yes, _ ” Becky breathes, and then they’re smiling at each other and bolting out the door, right onto the street and past their partners, slamming themselves into Becky’s van and taking off.

The others, much to their frustration, don’t get details for a whole day after that.


End file.
